The Leaves are Falling
by percychased
Summary: One-shots, all set in the Trio and Marauder Era. 1. George 2. Lily-centric 3. Katie/Oliver 4. ChoLavender 5. HermioneNarcissa 6. Hermione!AU 7. LunaCho
1. Something New

_Understand_

* * *

You're sitting on your bed in the dormitory, fiddling with a new prototype. Your twin is on his bed, right next to yours, and he's going off about all of the little details concerning his dance with Angelina.

"She wanted to go back to the dorms for some 'alone time,'" he says, grinning. You grin back and waggle your eyebrows at him.

You know he's liked her for a while, and she him. You're happy for the both of them, because Angelina's not too bad - she plays Quidditch, she doesn't get bothered with the immaturity of them both, and she understands their jokes too.

Fred's eyes light up again. "How could I have said no? Like - Merlin, George, I thought she was giving me Amortentia or something."

You and Fred are pretty much the same. You've always understood him, why he says something, why he does it. Aside from a few small quirks, you're both alike in many aspects.

But one thing you can't connect with is this - him fancying someone. Not that it's a bad thing, at all - definitely not - but you feel different.

It's the first time you haven't connected with the gleam in his eyes or the smile on his lips, and you're so very confused.

* * *

_a/n - my second george-centric fic in four days. sue me. i don't write second-person pov much... it's somewhat of an experiment. for 5 10 20 50 100 fandoms._


	2. Favours

_a/n - Lots of drama, I have never written anything like this ever before... Soap Opera genre for Quidditch Fanfiction League Competition. So yeah, drama and slightly unrealistic circumstances - you could probably consider these characters AU/OOC - a fair warning, Sirius is quite OOC in this fic._

* * *

Lily Evans dug her head into her pillow, sighing deeply. _When, _she wondered, _had her life become so complicated? _First there was the whole Snape-begging-for-her-forgiveness outside Gryffindor tower a few days ago, and now James I'm-so-bloody-arrogant Potter's chasing her around the school, conjuring lilies and demonstrating his ability to make up very cheesy one-liners.

_And _she was helping Remus with Prefect duties. Lily never seemed to catch a break, between her personal life and her school work.

Just when she thought she had time to herself, a voice, presumably just outside the fifth-year girls' dorm, shrieked, causing Lily to swing her legs out of the side of the bed and investigate the cause.

Marlene McKinnon was red in the face, shouting down the stairs that led to the Gryffindor common room.

Lily coughed. "Marlene? Are you... okay?"

Marlene ceased her vicarious shouting, storming into the dormitory, sitting on the edge of her bed. She let her face fall into her hands, quietly sobbing. The smell of her perfume - a sweet, fruity scent - wafted towards Lily. "No. Not particularly."

Although the two girls weren't too close, Lily was a very good listener and could tell Marlene could probably use a friend right now.

"What did he do now?" Lily asked calmy.

Marlene looked up, red-faced. "How... how did you know?"

"Well, it certainly wasn't you and Alice fighting, was it? Anyways, the way Sirius looks at you sometimes..." Lily trailed off.

"Yeah, it was him," Marlene said, sighing a little hopelessly. "_I don't know! _Potter and I, see, we're paired together in Charms, even though I've voiced my opinion on him to Flitwick more than once. So unfortunately we're working on our homework, right, and he says, 'Is there a mirror in your robes? Cause I can see myself in them!' and I, playing along, say 'you know it,' and Sirius just completely freaks out and asks me if we're having some _torrid affair _when we all know Potter's just one _gigantic _flirt and he really does love you!"

Marlene ended her rant, panting for breath.

"They're best friends, Black and Potter," Lily says logically. "Therefore, he either has amnesia, forgetting the fact that Potter pants after anything with legs - which I quite hope isn't the case - or he _really, really _likes you, so much he'd get irrationally jealous of his best mate for even using a lame pick-up line on you."

Marlene snorted dubiously. "I don't know about the whole _liking-me _part. He's kind of been a complete jackass to me in the past few weeks."

"Yes," says Lily calmy, "but he's only a jackass to _you." _

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that he likes you," Lily clarified. "He _fancies _you, Marlene. That's why he's so irrationally jealous."

Marlene was silent.

* * *

Lily was having a pretty fantastic day the next day when Sirius accosted her in the corridor.

"Hey, Lily, can I talk to you?" he asked, uncharacteristically serious. Lily looked shocked for a moment - he wasn't pulling some sort of joke? - before nodding.

"Alright."

"So, um, Marlene and I had a fight," he started nervously - was this really _Sirius Black? _In all of her sixteen years, she had seen him many things - angry, humoured, amused, annoyed, but never... nervous. What kind of effect did Marlene have on him?

Lily nodded. "I heard."

"And I realized I was being a giant prick to her... but I kinda wanted to spend more time with her and all. But she's always with James, because they're apparently 'partners' in Charms - "

"They are, I'm in OWL Charms with them."

"Yeah, but she's _always _spending her time with him. Godric knows why the hell she is. He's my best mate. He's great, really. Could you just, kind of, say _yes _next time James asks you out?"

"Black," Lily sighed, "I don't like Potter."

Sirius grinned at her roguishly. "_Riiight. _You must be mistaking all of that sexual tension for incompatibility. Damn, Evans, I thought you were smart."

"_I don't like him. _And there's no 'sexual tension'!" Lily protested.

"Calm down," Sirius motioned with his hands, "I get it. It's alright, Evans. Anyways, James is crazy about you. I know it. You know it. All of Hogwarts knows it. You like solving problems, right?"

"Only if you're talking about Arithmancy."

"Er, how about I am. Look, if you go out with James, he'll spend time with _you _instead of Marlene, and that means she'll spend more time with me. Next time he asks you to do his homework or whatever other lame excuse, say yes, okay?"

"I'm sorry, Sirius," Lily said, shocking him with the use of his first name - she always called him Black. "But you're going to have to find James a different girlfriend. I don't like him. How about I just talk to Marlene?"

"Sure," Sirius said casually, throwing a wink over his shoulder when he walked away, "see ya, Evans. Gotta get back to planning James and your's wedding. Best man and all."

Sirius Black _infuriated _her.

* * *

Marlene's sulking was just becoming too much - the poor girl had resorted to studying in the corner of the common room, with James by her side. Whatever bubble her and Sirius had been dancing around had burst, and it left a bad aftereffect on Lily.

"Hey, Evans? Would you mind helping me out on this Transfiguration essay? Sometimes the brightest of them all," he gestured to himself, grinning winningly, "can't figure this out."

Lily huffed, and _Potter _awaited his answer, still smiling brightly.

Lily thought of Marlene, uncharacteristically quiet and upset in the corner of the common room because Sirius had an inappropriately immature temper tantrum. It would make them both happier, and it wasn't as if she had to _kiss_ Potter, anyways...

She shook her head, ridding herself of those ridiculous thoughts. "Fine."

"You'll say yes sometime, you know... wait, _fine?__"_

"Yes, fine." She saw Sirius approach Marlene out of the corner of her eye.

"I knew," he started, sitting down quite close to her and leaning against the back of the sofa, "you would say yes one day."

Lily rolled her eyes.

* * *

_a/n - not quite sure about this one._


	3. Her Silver Lining

_**2006**_

They fell apart like leaves falling in the autumn. Slowly but surely, they'd reach the ground.

She didn't realize it at first.

But it was when she came home from work, exhausted and looking forward to an evening of relaxing, and he wasn't home, that she had an inkling. Because him being gone was nothing new.

_Maybe he's meeting that _friend _of his for a drink, _her mind snaps harshly. Of course - an old family friend, he had told her when she asked whom he was meeting at the Leaky Cauldron. They'd been going out almost daily, him and Adam. He'd also casually mentioned Adam's hair as being black - since when, she wondered, did Oliver ever care about a bloke's hair? She knew his family as well as her own, but never had she heard them even mention an Adam.

She had asked his sister, Georgia.

Georgia had frowned. "I don't know any Adam's, Katie. I don't think my mum or my dad does either."

And it was in Katie's nature, after all, to be suspicious. She knew she should trust her husband... and she did, really... but the signs were so horribly _cliched, _it was like one of her mother's Muggle drama films. But she didn't want to cause any problems, because it wasn't true, right? He was just visiting a family friend that none of his family seemed to know.

It was eleven at night, and Katie was reading on the sofa, a mug of steaming tea on the coffee table and warm, fuzzy slippers on her feet. A crack sounded from behind her, and she turned around to see her husband slipping off his shoes, setting them neatly on the stand. There was a pink flush on his face, despite the relatively mild spring weather.

"Where were you?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"With Adam, love," he replied, sitting next to her on the sofa.

* * *

Katie sort of missed the fact that their flat didn't smell like _him _anymore.

She didn't know what she was doing wrong. Was it her? Was she suddenly _so _undesirable that he had to talk to _Adam? _

She'd been throwing herself into her work the last few months. Before he had started going out. But she came back usually only an hour later than normal. The over-time paid well, and they had amicably agreed to start saving up for their own house.

"When can I meet this Adam you've been talking about for so long?" Katie asked casually one night. He hadn't gone out that night, and consequently, they had eaten supper together for the first time in what she supposed was _ages. _

"Soon, love," he answered, smiling that smile she loved and kissing her on the cheek.

* * *

Katie was just in a really bad mood, and she couldn't place why. For the last few weeks, she had been sick, throwing up and feeling dizzy. She didn't really feel like cooking for one tonight (a habit, it was, now), and everything in her refrigerator looked... _disgusting. _She still had a Self-Diagnosis Potion stored in the back of her cupboard - maybe that would help. Anything to get rid of that unpleasant feeling in her stomach. _Ugh. _

The Leaky Cauldron had some _wonderful _potatoes... and she really felt like potatoes right now.

The Floo caused a sickening feeling to erupt in her stomach, but she landed. Something familiar caught the corner of her eye, but she shook it off. Katie was too hungry to be bothered by such nonsense.

After asking for the potatoes to-go, she had made her way to the Leaky Cauldron Floo. There was that feeling, though - the one that made you feel like something was a little bit off, there was something wrong. She surveyed the room, left to right, before shrugging... wait, _what? _

Oliver was sitting at a booth. That was actually quite normal; but he was with someone else. A female someone else, a younger woman with a short, blunt haircut and the petite, smooth womanly curves Katie had always wished for. That woman looked a little bit like a Slytherin she knew...

Katie paused, standing right in the middle of the Leaky Cauldron. The building was so packed that she knew he wouldn't be able to see her, even if she could hear him.

"Pansy," he said warmly, and Katie shuddered. _Her! _Out of _all _of the possible women he could be meeting behind her back, it _had _to be the girl who had almost killed her at Hogwarts? Bullied her to the extreme?

It was like expecting to eat a raisin but eating a worm instead.

"You know, Ol, I really do love this shirt," she said breathlessly, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Bile rose to her throat - his orange t-shirt, the one she wore with nothing underneath on their honeymoon. She could see a stain on the corner of the shirt, one she remembered accidentally making with her lipstick. His hand, the one with the gold ring around it, fiddled with the hem.

She could remember herself doing that.

"Let's go somewhere a bit less dull, love," he said, and Katie beelined for the Floo, tearful memories of his orange shirt and her red lipstick and their once-upon-a-time honeymoon flooding her brain, the forevers and pleases, the warm feeling that spread to her toes.

* * *

There was a child in there! A real, living, breathing baby. Wow. Katie held her hand to her stomach, feeling a little nostalgic. Where had _her _childhood days gone? Playing at the park turned into romancing at the park, and Hogwarts robes turned into work robes. And now _she _was going to be a mother.

Oliver was over the moon, of course. She knew he would be. He loved children, perhaps a bit less than Quidditch, but he did in fact want them. And so did Katie.

Adam was _overjoyed _for them, she was told, when he came home. It had taken all of her strength not to confront him - but she knew she couldn't. Katie was a Gryffindor, yes. She was brave and daring and chivalrous. But there was a baby in there, in her stomach, and she wanted it to have a life she didn't have - two parents.

She might not trust him, or maybe she might not love him anymore, either, but she had to be brave. For her baby, her little silver lining.

Her love.

* * *

_a/n - I hope this counts as a split-up a pairing you enjoy. /sigh. Angsty KatieOliver is surprisingly easy to write. For the Quidditch Fanfiction League, prompts She Keeps Me Warm by Mary Lambert (I incorperated some of the lyrics into the fic) "Let's go somewhere a bit less dull." and every cloud has a silver lining. I actually finished something on time! Imagine that! :P_


	4. Magnetic

**The Color of a Million Different Faces**

**By: **percychased

**Wordcount: **984

* * *

Things happen. People change. They move on, and you have to live with it. Even though you don't want to, you have to.

That's what Cho tells herself.

Her and Cedric; they had a teenage romance, silly dates, awkward kisses, and unwavering loyalty. She was so sure back then, back in the 'glory days' that they would last forever. Dancing at the Yule Ball and staring into his eyes, always counting on him making her blush.

But, as Cho knows, every good thing comes to an end. Well, perhaps it doesn't, but she doesn't know, does she? Every good thing that's happened to her has come to an end, so why should she think any differently?

Cedric. Even thinking the name caused little pinpricks of pain to course their way throughout her viens, to make her blood run cold and to freeze her body with grief.

And Harry. The Boy Who Lived, defeater of the Dark Lord. Even before Cedric, she had always been a little fascinated by the raven-haired, emerald-eyed Gryffindor, who had always been nothing less than considerate to her despite all of the turmoil and harrowing publicity. In her opinion, he was so genuinely _nice _that he should have been placed in Hufflepuff.

But that crashed and burned, too, didn't it? On Valentines Day, in the middle of a tea shop, no less. She still felt a little twinge of guilt for accusing Harry of wanting to be with Hermione; she had ended up dating and marrying Ron, hadn't she?

The pinpricks of pain drew patterns on her heart, leaving gashes and wounds only visible to herself. They faded with time, but scars never really go away. Not really. They're permanent, and even if she can't see them in a mirror, she _knows _they're there.

After them two, she'd vowed to herself that she wouldn't find anyone else. Because why love when it's going to hurt someday?

But, of course, promises are made to be broken.

Along came her white horse, her knight in shining armour. No, this girl was not a knight, and could not be considered as such. This girl, one who bore the burden of physical scars instead of emotional ones, was a girl. One with hairstyling charms and skin glamours and makeup.

There was others who had different kinds of scars, just like Lavender. Her Lavender. Criss-crossing her neck, her face, her torso, and her arms. But that never affected her beauty.

Cho noticed, that every _single _time that Lavender looked in the mirror, she would cringe subtly. That wonderful girl would only notice the things that were wrong, the things that shouldn't be there. Cho felt that way, too. But she, instead, felt like her whole being was a scar, an unintended gash that maybe, perhaps, should not be there.

They were like two puzzle pieces, Lavender and Cho. Perfectly carved out to fit together. They may have been polar opposites, but Cho's grandmother was a Muggle and she taught her that on a magnet, North and South attract to each other. Cho was the North, cold and bitingly beautiful, silent and uninhabited. Lavender was the South, warm and sunny but hiding volcanos of explosions underneath the surface.

So, the naive part of Cho concluded, they belonged together. North and South. It really was the perfect fit, wasn't it?

They healed the other with reassurances and a partnership that no one would ever, ever be able to understand. They'd be there on those long, lonely nights, just to hold and to love. To be there when needed.

"Don't worry, it'll be alright in the end," Lavender would smile, showing off that perfect line of white teeth, and her face looked so hopeful and reassuring that Cho believed her with every ounce of her being.

But who knew the thing that felt the most natural was so _wrong _in societies' standards?

They were not doing anything to harm anyone, that's for sure. The biggest extent they went to was holding hands in public, and even then, it caused a pandemonium. That's when Cho felt that familiar sense of dread, that familiar sense of foreboding.

The one that foretold that bad things were going to happen, that she would once again be estranged from contentment. Was it really that much trouble to ask to be happy?

She heard the taunts coming from the street, the petty name calling and the cringes of disgust, even from people she once considered friends.

"It doesn't matter, though, does it?" asked Lavender. "We have each other, right? That's all we're ever going to need." And again, she used that fantastic ability of hers that made Cho believe every single word like it came from Merlin himself.

"Just us two," Cho said, quietly but looking up at Lavender with a twinkle in her coffee-black eyes.

"And it's going to be a long road there," began Lavender, eyes shining, "but we'll get there one day - I promise. One day, we'll be carefree and happy, running around barefoot and chasing rainbows. But we gotta look to where we're achieving, right? And not look back."

"The past is the past," agreed Cho softly. Lavender never failed to amaze her; what was in-depth gossip at Hogwarts with Parvati was now deep, meaningful words, ones that coud convey so many complex emotions in just those simple words.

_The past is the past. Live for the future._

* * *

_a/n - found this on my flash drive, haha, buried underneath lots of everything. Cho/Lavender is just a fab pairing._ _Black Fire Potion, HP Potions. Brown Positive, Colors Competition. The Ultimate Femmeslash Competition. Valentines Day, the Holiday Category Competition._ _As strong as we are united competition. Please don't favorite/follow without reviewing! :)_


	5. Cliches

_**A/n – can you spot a little bit of Ed Sheeran's 'Kiss Me' in here? This is very rushed - I hope to edit it later to fix it up, but for now, I'll post it.**_

Once upon a time, there was a princess.

You most likely dislike the cliche of 'once upon a time' and 'happily ever after'. So does she – in fact, she hates cliches. Completely loathes them, and no one can blame her. She's a princess with hair as red as the sunset and eyes darker than chocolate. Her laughter is contagious and she's braver than you'd expect her to be. She is not a princess, she says, but a prince who plays Quidditch and gets dirty and wears trousers instead of dresses. She is not, in fact, looking for her King, but her Queen.

Her Queen is tall and willowy, with age and grace. Her Queen is as cold as the wind blows, and as warm as a crackling fireplace. She is a very biased woman – just as a Queen should be. She is an unjustly Queen – her throne is battered and cracked and her _own _King and Prince are far, far gone, and she's a lonely Queen, running her kingdom with her own two hands.

This red-haired, freckled princess is destroying herself with every second the clock moves forward. Because while time moves forward, she moves backwards.

She's pining after a Queen who happens to care for another; an outcast of their kingdom, some would say. _She doesn't belong here. _

This commoner was once her brother's love.

This commoner had wild hair, intelligence unlike others, and the bravery of a lion.

* * *

"I'm going to be late after work tomorrow," Hermione explained apologetically.

Molly frowned; Hermione worked late often. As far as Molly Weasley knew, the poor girl was working herself to her death - she really needed to take a break sometime. "Well, okay," she said, before shooting Hermione a stern look, "but I hope to see you here for Sunday dinner."

"Of course, Mrs Weasley," she said courteously, giving her goodbyes to the Weasley family before Flooing out of the Burrow.

Ginny straightened her back and pressed her lips together. She knew exactly where Hermione was going; this was no extra shift at the Ministry. It was a lie Hermione was easily able to get away with, though - everyone expected her to do more work than she should. It was in her nature.

The elder girl had cut her hours back the moment she had inspected Malfoy Manor with the Aurors and found a bit of a surprise with one of the inhabitants there. She had told Ginny all about it.

"_It was an unbelievable shock," Hermione explained. "It has no logic or reason. I don't know why she makes me feel so... uncomfortable. But a good kind of uncomfortable, you know? It's very taboo, you know, so for once, I don't know..." _

Ginny had clenched her jaw – _oh, _she herself had known the beauty of this woman long before Hermione had – and like a good, supportive friend, she had nodded along and replied.

"_It doesn't matter if it's 'taboo' or not. If it makes you happy, it makes you happy and that's all." _

_The bookworm had nodded once; she had probably already figured this out for herself. "I'm so glad you approve, Ginny. It would kill me not to tell anyone."_

_"I'll always be here," the other girl replied, surprised at how easily the lie slipped out. Perks of being related to Fred and George, she supposed._

_"I know," said Hermione, rather blandly._

* * *

"I don't _understand. _This is unreasonable, it's -"

"_Draco." _

"- ridiculous. I am not doing _anything _of that sort, Mother! Father -"

His mother made a discerning noise at the word _father _and interrupted him harshly.

"It would be in our best interest to _cooperate, _Draco. We musn't be creating a scene; we don't need that. Go." Narcissa's words were clipped and cold - she had to remove her son from the room before her guest was over.

"Yes, Mother." Her son stood and left the room, giving his mother exactly what she wanted.

Not for long, however - that girl was coming. Just as she would, every Saturday night, exactly as the clock struck eight in the evening. It was very predictable; but then again, they had to remember who she was with.

And they'd dance the dance as old as time, and the girl would tell her how she _knew _the Weasley girl wanted Narcissa, in the way the girl wanted her. And how the girl wouldn't stand for it, because _once, just once, _she'd like something to be her own, without someone else getting involved or everything crashing and burning. _  
_

Because as much as the girl liked the Weasley daughter, she was not willing to share.

* * *

Once upon a time, there was a princess.

And this princess hated cliches. _Loathed _them, detested them. Couldn't stand them. She's petite and a firecracker, a rarity, a fiery path of destruction. Her Queen is ice cold, like snow in the summer. They are fire and ice, this princess knows. They could burn down stone and freeze lava together. _  
_

There was a commoner who took her place - _it wasn't really the princess' place to begin with _- and became the Queen's princess. _She _was supposed to be the princess. This commoner was fire, too - a gentle fireplace, crackling with warmth in the cold winter. The warmth inside the cold; the kind that you needed to survive. Not the destructive inferno blaze that the princess was; but something calmer and simpler.

You couldn't really fight _fire _with _fire. _

Happily ever after was a cliche. It was, it really was. And maybe that's why instead of getting it, she stood aside.

Maybe that was why she didn't have one.


	6. Blankets

_**AU: What if Harry Potter died in the Chamber of Secrets?**_

* * *

Molly frowned, lines marring her face. "Poor girl," she whispered to her husband. "Oh, poor girl..."

"We have to be there for her, Molly," said Arthur.

"I know," his wife sobbed, "I just can't believe it! A-after everything we've been through, and this happens. Oh, Arthur..." Her husband pulled her into a hug, rubbing small circles on her back.

"It'll be okay. We'll be okay. I promise, Molly."

* * *

Hermione Granger hadn't left her enclosure for weeks. A wall of blankets surrounded her, cutting off all outside contact. It was ridiculous, she knew, but she couldn't help it. She really couldn't. Her best friend, one who understood her Muggle ways, was gone. After everything Harry Potter had been through in his life, he was gone and Hermione didn't know what to think. In all of her planning, never had she thought this would happen. She thought, if Harry died, than she would die, too. They would all die together, but Harry had to be too much of a Gryffindor and face off against the most evil wizard in the Wizarding World...

She couldn't blame him - wouldn't she do the same thing? Hermione knew she would. She had only learned about her status as a witch two years ago, almost, but she knew she would give her life in a heartbeat if that meant getting rid of Voldemort.

The thing that hurt the most, tough, was that Harry could have been saved. She has researched and read, before he entered the Chamber, and the legend of phoenix caught her eye. Phoenix tears could heal almost any magical wound - they could heal a basilisk wound, and instead of dying in the Chamber of Secrets, he wouldn't have died at all.

He could have been saved. He could still be here, and that hurt. So much.

It was hard to function, anymore. All of her memories of Hogwarts were of Harry and Ron; getting saved by the troll, watching Harry play Quidditch, scolding them for leaving it for the last second... in fact, she could hardly remember the last time she talked to him.

Hermione had been petrified, after leaving the library with her head full of new information, about what exactly was in the Chamber. Moments later, all she remembered was bright yellow eyes, and what seemed like a second but what was months later, she woke up in the hospital, with a puffy-eyed Molly Weasley and a somber-looking Arthur Weasley next to her. The other Weasley children, ones she hadn't met - Bill and Charlie, she presumed - were standing with Ron, who was trapped inside the Chamber with a broken wand, covered with rocks and with a mad Gilderoy Lockhart as company for three whole days before Moaning Myrtle had broken her silence and explained to Dumbledore.

"What's going on?" she had asked at first. "Why am I here? I was in the corridor last, was I not?"

Her question brought Molly Weasley to tears, and Arthur continued to rub her back.

"You were petrified, Miss Granger," said Madam Pomfrey softly - quite unlike her usual no-nonsense tone. Hermione wondered what had prompted her to talk like that, so gentle.

It was moments after she woke up when she recognized the large amounts of redheads in the room.

"What happened, Madame Pomfrey? Is Ron okay?" she asked hurriedly, "is Harry?"

When her question was met with silence, she felt a large stone sink into her stomach. The silence confirmed her fears. Molly sobbed.

It was then McGonagall entered the room, her hair as grey as ever and face more severe than usual. Hermione's eyes shot between Madame Pomfrey's gentle expression, McGonagall's carefully-executed calm, and Molly's sobs.

"W-what happened?"

"Mr Potter is dead, Miss Granger."

Her whole body froze, and for the first time in her life, she fell backwards onto her pillow in a dead faint.

* * *

The summer before third year, she had stayed at the Burrow for the summer holidays. As much as she wanted to tell her parents, she couldn't. They would understand, but only to an extent. Molly had offered her a room at the Burrow, and she had taken it.

She was grateful for the hospitality. She imagined how hard it must be on the family, as a whole; living in the the Wizarding world their whole life and having what seemed their only chance at ridding the world of Voldemort killed.

She was leaving her room, down the stairs for breakfast, when she heard a faint mention of her name behind a closed door. She paused - every moral in her body screamed it was wrong to eavesdrop, but she was curious. What did she have to do with anything.

"She's much too quiet these days," a soft voice said, and Hermione recognized it as Arthur.

"This is too much for someone her age, Arthur! Her and Ron, they're only thirteen! They're too young to go through this!"

"We know - but we can't change anything now. We just have to do the best we can in helping them, Molly."

"I haven't heard Hermione talk in weeks, poor girl, and Ron doesn't even want to eat or play Quidditch, Arthur! They aren't themselves..." Hermione heard a broken, choked sob, and a floor creak.

Her heart felt as if was made of something very heavy. It felt as though it was dragging on the ground, and she didn't have the strength to pull it up.

She crawled back into her burrow of blankets, snuggling into the warmth. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could see Harry, Ron, and herself. Best friends, they were. So she laid in the cove of blankets, staring up at the ceiling at the cracks.

With all those blankets on, she still felt uncovered. Incomplete. She felt heavy, and she was waiting, for someone who would never come back. And she hated the feeling, so much.

* * *

_Quidditch Fanfiction League competition, round nine. Blankets, S/he's too quiet lately, and uncovered. Chaser #1 AU - What if Harry Potter had died in the Chamber of Secrets?_


	7. First Fly

_**First Fly**_

* * *

Maybe she's a little bitter, but she's also a little broken.

The wind causes her hair to fly behind her, dark, dancing waves, and it feels quite liberating. Flying isn't what it used to be - a passion and a hobby. It's something like a getaway now, she supposes.

When she's up in the sky, her feet aren't touching the ground and she isn't quite connected to her problems. Right now, everything except for her and her broom and the sky are insignificant little ants on the ground, but she knows and fears that they get bigger when her feet brush the ground.

When her feet touch the ground, the combination lock she sets on her mind is unraveled, and her fears and her nightmares, they're back again. Her feet dig into the soft grass when she walks, and every time the soles of her shoe make a footprint in the muddy grass, it reminds her of every footstep she takes and he doesn't.

She's painting how she feels when she dives and curves and turns in the air, like her body is a paintbrush and the sky is her canvas.

The sun is setting in the horizon, and it's getting hard to see. Cho weaves around the stands of the Quidditch Pitch once more, before landing and dismounting smoothly. She's walking off of the Pitch as quickly as she can when a voice interrupts her.

"Sunset is the perfect time for many things. The sky is full of them. I've never been to the sky."

It's a girl with long, wispy blonde hair that she recognizes faintly. Luna Lovegood.

I've never been to the sky. Cho deduces the meaning quickly. "You've never been flying, have you?"

"Never. Well, I've never been taught. Perhaps you could teach me?"

Cho is shocked at the girl's lighthearted but forward tone; no one talks to her as if she real and living anymore. They all talk to her as if she's an apparition, a ghost. Since he's been gone. But this girl has just gone and talked to her as if she's someone to talk to instead of someone who is needed to be pulled apart and figured out, like it is numbers instead of matters of the heart.

"I was just going inside," Cho says bitterly, so bitterly you can practically taste it, but she's been craving actual human contact so bad that it's hard to get the words out. She knows she's lying to herself.

"Ah," says Luna, lingering on the words and drawing it out on her tongue. "Sunset is one of the most magical times of day, you know."

"I will. I'll teach you," Cho says faintly, toying with her lip.

"Lovely," said Luna, so lightly Cho thought it would just pick up with the wind and float away. "I've always wanted to see orions, the beauties of the skies, they say."

"Pardon?"

Luna just smiles as the wind catches her hair.

"Here," says Cho, passing the broom to her gently. Cho guided the girl onto it. She's oddly firm but breakable at the same time; she has a wispy look to her, like one day the wind will blow too hard and she'll be gone, but when Cho touches her waist and shifts her so she sits properly on the broom, she seems so very unbreakable. Like you could throw anything at her and it will bounce off.

When she's sitting properly on the broom, feet still touching the ground, she still has a dreamy look on her face.

"Just kick off gently," Cho instructs quietly. "Keep steady. Don't move around too much."

Luna smiles. "Like a Thestral."

Cho doesn't know what that is, but she nods. "Yes. Exactly like that."

Luna kicks off, hovering half a foot from the ground. She removes her shoes, and her feet are bare and dangling in mid air.

Cho stands, and Luna hovers, for a moment. Cho thinks; this girl is a complete mystery. She's very direct but also in her own sort of world. Perhaps her own sort of daydream.

"Orions," she says, kicking her feet gently and breaking the silence. Cho looks up at her. "The wonders of the sunset sky. They only come out when the bright, the good, has gone away, and they leave before the dark, and the bad, come. They are life-changing to see, I've hear."

Cho is still, but then speaks. "Life-changing, I guess. They would be neither good nor bad, yes? They would be the grey amidst the black and the white."

"It's never as simple as that," Luna says lightly, staring up to the sky with a love reflecting in her eyes and reaching toward the stars. "There is always something bad about someone good and something good about someone bad. We are all very, very grey."

* * *

a/n - so yeah. Big Sis Lil Sis Comp - check out my little sister Teddy's (teddylupin-snape) fic! I used the pairing, the word, the phrase, the lyric, the emotion, and the item (in a metaphorical sense). Wordcount: 805. Admittedly, not some of my best work.


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